


The Government Labs

by closetcellist, DelusionsbyBonnie, The London-in-the-Air Archival Society (sakuuya)



Series: New Adventures of the London-in-the-Air Archival Society [5]
Category: Battle for London-in-the-Air
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-04
Updated: 2019-05-04
Packaged: 2019-05-13 07:47:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 6,249
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14744798
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/closetcellist/pseuds/closetcellist, https://archiveofourown.org/users/DelusionsbyBonnie/pseuds/DelusionsbyBonnie, https://archiveofourown.org/users/sakuuya/pseuds/The%20London-in-the-Air%20Archival%20Society
Summary: Recovered set descriptions (and set images, where possible) from round eight of the Polyvore battle group The New Adventures of London-in-the-Air. Primarily not my work, uploaded here for archival purposes.





	1. Round Information /@sakuuya

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was written by Polyvore user @sakuuya, aka [sakuuya](https://archiveofourown.org/users/sakuuya). It was part of the set-up for this round.

Hello again, LITA folks!

At the end of the last round, Dr. Massey was revealed as the main mole in the resistance and was executed, since everyone last round either thought he should be or failed to offer any specific alternatives. Percy Albright’s status as the Archivist is still a secret, though Rebecca (@lunaofthemiste) is pretty confident it’s him and Andrew (@delusionsbybonnie) has proof, which he’s shared with Eugenie Howard-Dutch.

THIS round is a little strange because, unlike the usual sprawl of LITA, it takes place within one contained environment. To that end, I have a broad plot outline for the round, to keep everybody more or less on the same page:

\- Dave Heaton leads the OCs to the secret labs beneath the ruins of Gilded Hall. They have to sneak past/disable/kill some guards and break into the lab itself.  
\- The lab is empty when they get inside, but Dr. Kern and Warren Herald come in shortly thereafter, and the OCs have to restrain Kern and restrain/knock out/kill Warren them to stop them from sounding the alarm. Dr. Kern is willing to answer the OCs’ questions about his work (which is to say, he’ll brag about all the awesome science he did) but Warren (if he's still awake/alive) refuses to cooperate.  
\- The OCs investigate the cyborgs, weapons, and sundry other scientific projects contained in the lab. It would be great if one or more people figured out that the cyborgs can remember their past lives.  
\- When they’re finished, the OCs blow up the laboratory, possibly killing Kern and Warren and some cyborgs (depending on what/who they take with them when they leave) and definitely stopping the government from fielding cyborg soldiers.

Your description for this round can cover as much or as little of that as you want; you absolutely don’t have to write about the whole thing. Also, if it would help, I’d be happy to put up a plotting set to help get everybody on the same page. Just let me know!

I referred to “the OCs” in that outline, but the actual crew for this job is as follows: Dr. Jhandir (@sakuuya), Kara Feurherz (@fashionqueen19), Dr. Suttler (@closetcellist), Elizabeth Maximoff (@multifandomgal), Rebecca Tyler (@lunaofthemiste) Dave Heaton, Gina Gunn, Celine Abinall, Chauncey Spencer, Tristan Curtis, and any other NPCs you feel like bringing along. If you want any other NPCs to come, please comment/PM me about it, so I can add ‘em to this list!

For the requirement about including another person’s character in your story, you all have my blanket permission to use Dr. J. I’m happy to plot or even RP with you if you’d like, but you can also just use him in your story without consulting me.

Hilariously, all of this covers exactly one point from the plot wrap-up set: “Ultimately, one wing of the rebellion finds the hub of the government's zombie cyborg program and completely destroys, likely killing everyone involved, though some of them could possibly have been spared. Dave Heaton and Lord Beck reveal that a second secret facility under the Gilded Hall houses lots of cyborgs and secret projects and weapons and such. It also turns out that being exposed to scenes and images that remind the zombies of their human lives can snap them out of their mind control, much as Dave was snapped out of his induced amnesia. It is possible that most zombie cyborgs made from resistance members could be jolted semi-back to their senses and help the OCs before dying again when the control switch (of sorts) for the whole ‘army’ is destroyed.” Note that even though Beck is mentioned here, he died several rounds ago and will therefore not be attending this shindig.

I’d also recommend taking a look at the second half of @from-the-garden’s LITA R3 story, which contains most of the extant canon information about how the government cyborgs work: https://www.polyvore.com/cgi/set?id=200329425.

For the people who said their OCs weren’t coming along to the labs, I have a lot less structure for you folks. Basically, please continue pursuing whatever plot threads you were already working on. If you need inspiration, here’s some stuff that’s happening in the background:

\- Walt Steers, furious that Dave Heaton was welcomed into the rebellion, cuts all ties. Shortly thereafter, he is publicly revealed as a cyborg by Charlotte Sterling. It is not a fun round for Walt.  
\- Percy Albright—who, again, has NOT been revealed as the Archivist yet—allies with the resistance. This is also because of Dave, Percy’s long-lost brother, who’s starting to remember his pre-government past.  
\- Eugenie Howard-Dutch knows that Percy is the Archivist, and while she hasn’t shared that information around yet, she’s MUCH better at taking action than she is at sitting on information.  
\- One of the rebellion bases, the one on Tau, is nearly discovered by the soldiery but is saved, at least for the time being, by the heroic actions of Forrester James, who is killed protecting it.

EXAMPLE SET: https://www.polyvore.com/cgi/set?id=235183245

\-----

NPCS MOVED TO THE DEAD LIST AFTER LAST ROUND:  
\- Nori Lynch (killed by Kara (@fashionqueen76) during Nori’s failed attempt on Dr. Massey’s life)  
\- Prof. Edgar Gilbert (killed by Dr. Massey for spreading information about Massey’s involvement with the attack on the Pi base in LITA R2)  
\- Dr. Vernon Massey (executed by Chauncey Spencer for his crimes against the resistance)

NPCs WHO DEFINITELY DIE THIS ROUND:  
\- Forrester James (Killed while misdirecting soldiers away from the rebellion base on Tau)

NPCs WHO MAY DIE THIS ROUND:  
\- Dr. Thornton Kern (killed by an OC during their raid on the government labs)  
\- Warren Herald (killed by an OC during their raid on the government labs)  
\- Gina Gunn (killed at some point during the raid on the government labs)  
\- If your OC is NOT going to the labs and there’s an NPC you want to get rid of as part of your story, PM me or comment on this set and we’ll chat. The big bads and the active OCs’ love interests are off the table, but I’ll probably let you kill off anyone else.

\-----

SET REQUIREMENTS  
[ ] 1+ pictures of your character  
[ ] 1+ pictures of another OC or NPC who appears in your story  
[ ] Gears or other machinery  
[ ] A skeleton or anatomical drawing  
[ ] A picture involving lightning or electricity

DESCRIPTION REQUIREMENTS  
[ ] Do one of the following:  
\- If your OC is participating in the raid on the government labs, write about that.  
\- If not, write about what they’re doing while the others are planning and executing the raid.  
[ ] Include an interaction with someone else’s OC or NPC in your description.  
[ ] What does your OC think should be done about the cyborgified resistance members taken from the labs? (Regardless of whether your character helped get them)  
[ ] Would you, as a player, prefer that the big final battle be covered in one or two rounds?  
[ ] Tag the mods @decoder13 and @sakuuya


	2. Liz Maximoff / @multifandomgal

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was written by Polyvore user @multifandomgal.

Liz was quick to join the group and help with the raid, mostly due to her curiosity about the technology and gadgets that could be found in the government labs. Whilst in the labs, Elizabeth started by searching the tool and supply shelves for anything useful, along with Gina Gunn, who's main interest (unsurprisingly) seemed to be inspecting weaponry, but then turned to the cyborgs themselves after having little success. This was when her interest was really piqued. Though horrific and unnatural, the cyborgs were, admittedly, wonderfully crafted; putting her head closer to one of the cyborgs, Liz could hear the familiar ticking of gears, yet if the metal additions to the body were covered up, it would look just like a human being again! Despite her curiosity about the creation, Liz decided that it was best not to touch it, but apparently Dr. Jhandir and Celine Abinall had thought otherwise. Of course. However, their interference didn't have much of an impact on the overall success of the venture, in Elizabeth's mind, Now, all that was left to do was agree on what to do with all of these cyborgs...


	3. Dr. Jhandir / @sakuuya

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was written by Polyvore user @sakuuya, aka [sakuuya](https://archiveofourown.org/users/sakuuya).

Dr. Jhandir didn’t trust Heaton, whatever the man claimed about his repressed memories and changing loyalties. Nor did he trust Chauncey Spencer, who had come along ostensibly as further protection, but whom Dr. Jhandir had already seen chatting with Irving Suttler. Besides, Spencer put yellow curry powder on practically everything he ate, and such a person was not to be trusted under even the most favorable of circumstances. Miss Feurherz was...a wildcard. He’d never had any particular reason to distrust her, but he’d never worked closely with her, either, and from what he understood, she was a very private young lady. Right now, that was more than enough to make him suspicious.

Since he couldn’t rely on any of the supposed bodyguards, Dr. Jhandir wore on his back a portable galvanic prod. It was a heavy, unwieldy thing, and it made his bad leg hurt, even when he was using his cane. But he was more than willing to bear the pain. The probe could probably kill Heaton outright, and would likely be able to incapacitate Spencer or Feurherz, at least temporarily. Not to mention how invaluable it would prove should the reanimated men cause any trouble.

There were one or two close scrapes as the little group picked its way through the burned-out shell of Gilded Hall, but they soon made it to the secret laboratory underneath, and took care of Kern and his new assistant without much trouble.

The mechanicals—presumably—were arranged in two neat rows, laid out on tables and covered with preservation tarps. Dr. Jhandir sat down on a stool next to one of the tables and set his bag on the instrument tray. Celine Abinall pulled up a second stool at sat next to him, down at the covered body’s legs. He’d advised her against coming to the lab, but she had been adamant, and he hadn’t wanted to risk their current understanding by forbidding her from tagging along. She had a pistol in her tote, on loan from Cordelia, but apparently she had also found room for a small sketchpad and some charcoal, which she pulled out now.

Dr. Jhandir pulled back the preservation tarp with rather more flourish than he would have done if he hadn’t been so conscious of his audience. He thought he might have recognized the young woman under it. There was something vaguely familiar about her blonde hair and the set of her face, but it was all made unfamiliar by the brass and steel and wires jutting out from her, and he couldn’t quite remember her name. It was no matter—dead bodies were dead bodies, when one got right down to it—but it nagged at him.

Before beginning his dissection, Dr. Jhandir injected her with anesthetic, in the shoulder that was not coated in metal. He had no idea whether a mechanical man could feel pain, but he didn’t want to risk it. And, just in case the painkillers didn’t work on such radically altered physiology, he secured the table’s thick leather straps around her wrists, ankles, and forehead.

He cut into her, mimicking the standard Y cut of an autopsy as closely as he could on her patchwork skin. She bled a strange, yellowish fluid, and then only sluggishly, but her skin peeled back easily enough. Dr. Jhandir used his rib cutter just enough that he could lever the rest of the rib cage out of his way.

The corpse’s internal organs were as much of a motley as her skin, but the obvious centerpiece was a fully-mechanical heart. It was ornately molded to appear as an etching of a natural heart, and Dr. Jhandir couldn’t imagine whose idea that could have been. The irregular metallic patches over the rest of the body seemed much more in line with Kern’s style.

Instead of the fierce throb of a natural heart (and really, people who had never opened a living chest had no idea how violent a heartbeat was), the mechanical heart vibrated almost imperceptibly as it transmitted electrical signals to the thin wires that ran from it to other parts of the body. Dr. Jhandir reached out to touch it and received a nasty jolt for his efforts.

He frowned. The heart was clearly the central mechanism, but how was it being controlled? Some of the wires branching from it when up toward the neck. Perhaps the answers could be found in the brain. He took a hammer with hook and a skull chisel out of his bag and started to separate the skullcap.

“Doctor…”

The word was barely more than a groan. Dr. Jhandir looked around the room to see who was calling for him, but everyone seemed engrossed in their own work. He looked, puzzled, at Celine, who pointed soundlessly down at the table, her eyes wide with fascination.

“Doctor...Zh…”

Dr. Jhandir knew fairly precisely how much it took to send a human into shock, and there was no way this woman should have been able to speak with her chest laid open and ribs removed, regardless of the amount of anesthetic in her system.

Nonetheless, the mechanical woman opened her mouth once again. Dr. Jhandir, unsettled to a degree he would never have admitted to aloud, unhooked his galvanic prod from the portable generator on his back. He secured his grip on the rubber-covered handle, flipped the switch on the side, and applied the prod to the mechanical woman’s exposed heart. There was a crackling electrical sound as she jerked in her restraints before going still. Her heart was no longer buzzing.

“What did you do?” Liz Maximoff asked, coming over to the table.

“The mechanical was trying to sit up. It looked as though it wanted to attack me,” Dr. Jhandir said. Celine nodded. She looked more excited about this development than Dr. Jhandir would have preferred, but at least she was corroborating his story.

“I thought you said that your prod was nonlethal,” Liz said, narrowing her eyes. “You should have let me look over it before we left.”

“It lacks the voltage to be fatal to a human. I didn’t lie. But that’s how sensitive these mechanicals are—since they’re brought to…well, I suppose we must call it ‘life,’ though electrical impulses, even a nonfatal shock is enough to disrupt their vital processes. Heaton can tell you all about it. I need to return to my autopsy.”

“All right,” Liz said, but she still looked skeptical. She left quickly when Dr. Jhandir resumed his separation of the skullcap.

Celine gasped in appreciation when he removed it entirely. “Oh, wow, I’ve never seen a real brain before! At least, not one still in its skull.”

Dr. Jhandir smiled. Actually, the brain looked much more ordinary than he had anticipated. Wires ran up into it, but there was no apparent control mechanism, nor any sign that one had been placed deeper in the brain tissue. He removed it and sliced it into thick sections, just in case. Nothing.

“Keep drawing,” he said to Celine. “I want to speak to Kern.”

Dr. Kern didn’t look as perturbed to be tied up as Dr. Jhandir thought he ought to, though he winced occasionally at the way his experiments were being manhandled by the rebels.

“Hullo, Anil,” he said in a conversational tone as Dr. Jhandir approached him.

Dr. Jhandir backhanded him, hard, across the face for his disrespect. He needed to understand who was in charge here.

“There’s no need for that,” Kern said, the familiarity gone from his voice. “I’ve been nothing but respectful even though you imbeciles are trashing my laboratory.”

“How are you controlling the mechanicals?”

Kern smiled; there was blood on his teeth. “I’m afraid the controls aren’t housed in the laboratory. I’m justly proud of my reanimated children, of course, but the control mechanism is the real triumph of engineering. Imagine, commands transmitted through the very ether, directly to their hearts! Unfortunately for you, you’ll never get to see it. The mechanism is housed in such a secret location that—”

“Ah, so Lady Sterling has it?” Dr. Jhandir interrupted.

“Now, however did you find out about that? You know, I always thought we underestimated you, Anil. You could have been a great scientist if Burns and the rest of the higher-ups had given you a chance. It’s hardly a surprise that you chose to throw in your lot with these rabble-rousers, but it is a pity.”

Dr. Jhandir wanted to tear Kern apart. He wanted to slice him to ribbons. He wanted to cut out Kern’s tongue and listen to him choke to death on his own blood. He settled for slapping him again before storming back over to his dissection table.

Celine had taken up his discarded scalpel and was tracing it carefully along the left axillary artery. There wasn’t much of a difference in the flow of the mechanical’s yellowy vital fluid now that it was dead.

“What are you doing?” Dr. Jhandir snapped.

“Just some anatomy practice, Celine said brightly. “I figured there was no harm done, since she’s already dead. Re-dead.”

“Well, stop it. I told you you could come along on the condition that you didn’t interfere.”

“Oh, so your experiments are important, but mine aren’t?” Celine asked. Angry, she looked more like Cordelia than ever. Before Dr. Jhandir could reply in the affirmative, she continued, “What the hell did Kern say to you? You were fine before you talked to him, and now you’re lashing out at me over nothing.”

She was right, and he hadn’t even realized that that was what he was doing until she said it. But all he said was, “Don’t concern yourself with it. I found out where the external control mechanism is housed; that’s the most important thing.”

“Where is it?”

“Not here. Apparently it can transmit commands remotely. We’ll have to destroy it some other night.” Celine didn’t say anything, but her expression said plenty. Dr. Jhandir sighed. “Yes, you can come along, if you’d like.”

 


	4. Dr. Suttler / @closetcellist

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was written by Polyvore user @closetcellist, aka [closetcellist](https://archiveofourown.org/users/closetcellist).

Dr Suttler had thought that he was prepared for what they would find in the labs; he had heard more than he felt he needed and his imagination was fairly vivid. Still, it seemed there really was nothing that could have prepared him for this, for the shock so deep in his core that it could only be his soul rebelling, as he saw the rows of bodies and understood (truly understood) what had been happening, what was still happening. It wasn’t the bodies themselves--every doctor in the world has seen bodies in all the states between life and death--but the understanding that these poor dead had been trapped in a prison of their own flesh, a purgatory or a hell of human making, that was what he finally understood and realized he had not been prepared for.

Suttler felt the blood rush from his face, sure he had gone completely white as the pins and needles signalling low blood pressure and an impending fainting spell happened. He was familiar enough with it to recognize it and steady himself, one hand on Chauncey’s arm, feeling lucky the man was there. How easy it was to forgive the deaths he had had a hand in now. How incredibly easy, easier than looking at the rows of bodies, easier than breathing when he listened to Dr Kearns and saw the demented look of pride and pleasure on his face. How easy. He had not been prepared for that either.

Nor was he prepared to see Celine--a bright young woman who looked innocent enough on the outside, though God and man both knew that meant nothing--blithely taking apart another woman after the start of Dr Jhandir’s autopsy.

“What are you doing?” Dr Suttler asked, grabbing Celine’s wrist to stop her cutting further, intending to be sharp, though the words came out strangled and hurt.

Celine rather grumpily tugged her hand free. “It isn’t alive--and we’re here to study them. What’s wrong with you?”

Dr Suttler looked baffled and lost at the question. “That’s a person,” he said. “Don’t you understand that she’s a person?” Another time, perhaps, he would have thought that it made sense that she had interest in Dr Jhandir, what with the both of them apparently lacking human feelings, but at the moment he was too overwhelmed by the sheer horror of the space--too overwhelmed to even give in to the terrified anger he felt toward Dr Kern’s and how sick the man’s pride in this monstrous experiment made him feel.

“It’s just a body,” Celine said, somewhere between trying to reason with him and trying to disengage. “It doesn’t hurt them. They aren’t alive. And we’re here to shut them down anyways. What do you expect us to do?”

“God,” Dr Suttler whispered, half response, half prayer, as through the back of his mind, he finished God let me leave this place scrolled quietly, a whisper even to himself. “We have to free them.”

Dr. Jhandir gave him a sharp, angry look and opened his mouth to rebuke him, Dr Suttler cut him off, shaking his head. “No, I mean--their souls. I agree with you. We can’t--it’s demonic. We can’t let them suffer any longer.”


	5. Rebecca Tyler / @lunaofthemiste

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was written by Polyvore user @lunaofthemiste. It was originally posted as two separate stories.

“Rebecca.”

Rebecca sleepily opened her eyes and sat up, looking drowsily at the annoyed-looking Tristan before her. “What time is it?” She mumbled, brushing her hair out of her face.

“A few hours before I said I’d be in.” Tristan answered, frowning. “Did you sleep here?”

“I must have, but completely on accident.” Rebecca fibbed, trying to fix her hair.

“How many times have you ‘accidentally’ slept here?” Tristan asked, crossing his arms.

“Just once.”

Tristan sighed. “Rebecca, they’re looking for you. Your brother is looking for you. Apparently you’ve been missing for almost two weeks.”

Rebecca sighed. “It isn’t what it looks like. Octavia was blackmailing me, it was getting harder to leave-”

“But you didn’t tell me!” Tristan cut her off. “I could have given you a place to sleep, helped you out.”

“I don’t need your pity, Tristan.” Rebecca looked down.

“This isn’t pity, this is me caring about you! I can’t just let you live here and sleep at your desk.” Tristan ran a hand through his hair. “We…we have to talk about this later, they’re raiding the labs today.” He abruptly switched subjects.

“I know.” Rebecca said softly. “I was planning on going with you.”

Tristan raised an eyebrow. “Really? Are you sure?”

“I figured having a different perspective might help with the raid.” She shrugged. “I am good at noticing things.”

Tristan nodded, not saying anything. Rebecca knew he wasn’t happy, especially after finding out that she had been living at the base, but he was clearly trying to push it all aside.

“Let’s go, then.” Tristan said suddenly, deciding not to argue with Rebecca on this one.

***

The rag-tag group of rebellion members made its way into the somewhat dilapidated Gilded Hall, and Rebecca began to wonder what she had gotten herself into. Dave Heaton led the group, and Rebecca was grateful that he hadn’t changed sides. At least someone who had come to her base for help hadn’t turned.

She was surprised he even talked to her at all, especially when he noticed the pistol she was carrying and asked if she knew how to fire.

“I reckon it isn’t that hard.” Rebecca had answered. “Point and fire are the main functions.” She had no intentions of actually using it, but having the firearm made her feel safer.

The lab was unlike anything Rebecca imagined, full of gears and gadgets that she knew people in the science division would go crazy for. She was already plotting a potential expose she could write under pseudonym, though the expose would likely never get published. If all went well, the lab would be destroyed, along with all of the weapons that the government could use against them.

She pulled her coat tighter around herself as she continued to investigate the lab. Tristan was off with a few other members, and she figured that the space might be good for her. Maybe she could prove that she would be okay on her own, and didn’t always need assistance.

Rebecca made her way over to the rows of cyborgs, frowning as she observed the rows of tables and preservation tarps. It was hard to imagine that the government had been doing this; that all these innocent people had been converted into..something else. Curiosity got the better of Rebecca, and she pulled off the preservation tarp off of one of the cyborgs.

Rebecca dropped her gun once she saw who was under the tarp. She couldn’t believe who was under the tarp, and didn’t believe until the cyborg opened his eyes.

Oscar.

After all this time of believing him to be dead, Oscar was alive…but not quite. He had an obvious metallic patch over where Rebecca remembered his fatal wound, and his skin looked different, almost too yellow.

“He…” Oscar mumbled, barely a whisper, as he tried to communicate with Rebecca. He tugged at the restraints around his wrists, and Rebecca assumed he was asking for help, to be freed.

As much as Rebecca wanted nothing more than to help him, she hesitated. The cyborgs were made by the government as weapons to be used against the rebellion. Was it possible that Oscar remembered her at all, and only wanted to kill her?

If she freed him, it was very likely that he would subdue and kill her instantly.

But if she left him here to die, it would be like losing him all over again.

Rebecca realized that she couldn’t leave him, especially if Oscar was in there somewhere. She started to undo the restraints on his wrists while he started to mumble something Rebecca could not understand.

“It’s okay, Oscar, I’ve got you.” Rebecca whispered, hoping that Oscar could still understand her in his current state. She remembered his odd way of dressing in the winters; how he hated having his sleeves too tight around his wrists. He had said it was something to do with his training, that he had hated the weight around his wrists ever since. Having the restraints on now must have felt like torture.

“Rebecca?” She looked up to see Tristan calling her from across the hall. He walked quickly over to her, as if he was afraid the almost-dead cyborgs would attack. “What are you….” Tristan trailed off when he realized it was Oscar on the table.

“Help me free him.” Rebecca told Tristan, offering no explanation.

“We don’t even know if there’s any ‘him’ left.” Tristan swallowed. “We don’t-”

“Trist…Tristan?”

Oscar was looking at Tristan with some form of recognition in his eyes. He spoke slowly, as if each word was a struggle.

Tristan took a shuddering breath and started to undo the hand restraint on his side. “I’m here, Oscar. What else do you remember?”

“Pain…” Oscar winced. “Blood, too. I was dying.” He spoke softly.

“But you are okay now.” Rebecca assured him, freeing his hand.

Oscar turned. “Rebecca? How…why?”

Rebecca shook her head. “We will discuss later.”

“We have to take him with us.” Tristan decided.

“What about the others?” Rebecca asked.

Tristan bit his lip. “We don’t know what Kern did to them. We can hope that it didn’t hurt Oscar too bad.” He added.

“So we aren’t taking them?” Rebecca frowned.

“Do you think anyone else wants to?” Tristan replied, sighing. “I want to save everyone, Becca, but they probably don’t even want us to take Oscar at this point.”

“Becca?”

“That’s the part you’re focusing on?”

“You have never called me that before.” Rebecca responded, helping Oscar sit up.

“I’ve missed a lot, haven’t I?” Oscar asked warily.

Tristan half-smiled. “We’ll get into that once we get the hell out of here."

* * *

 

“We’re almost there,” Tristan assured Rebecca as they walked down yet another alley. “This is just a back route so we don’t get caught.”

The trio - Rebecca, Tristan, and Oscar - had been walking for what seemed like hours. They had been walking slower to help Oscar out, who was still leaning on Tristan for support. Rebecca didn’t recognize this area of the city, but Tristan and Oscar did.

“At least the weather’s nice.” Oscar cracked a smile, trying to lighten the mood. “It would have been bad if it rained.”

“It would have been, yes.” Rebecca spoke quietly, looking around nervously. It was weird to have Oscar back - someone she had seen /dead/ - and even weirder to see him interacting with Tristan. Not that she didn’t want him back, she was happy to see him alive, even if it was as a cyborg.

Tristan walked up to a small apartment, looking around before unlocking the door and letting the others inside. He listened for a moment, then spoke. “It seems we have the place to ourselves; Mum and Avery must be out or at one of the bases.”

Oscar nodded, looking around. “You’ve redecorated.”

Tristan shrugged. “Well, it has been two years.” Rebecca frowned at the comment, noticing how Tristan was trying to play off the fact that two years ago, Oscar was dead. She knew how unusual the situation was, it was still odd how much Tristan wanted to act like Oscar had been missing, not dead. While Tristan led Oscar to a seat, Rebecca looked around.

The main floor of the apartment, where they now were, was small and homey. Rebecca could clearly see a small sitting area, a dining room, and a small kitchen. The place was clearly lived in; documents were piled on the table and some old books were on the floor. While it wasn’t as grand as Rebecca’s house, it was nicer and friendlier.

Tristan glanced at Rebecca. “Sorry it isn’t-”

Rebecca cut him off. “Don’t apologize. It’s lovely.” She smiled, walking over and sitting down with the pair.

Tristan smiled back, then turned to Oscar. “Is there anything I can get you? Food, water, blanket, anything?” He asked.

Oscar shook his head. “I’m fine for now, but if I need anything, I know my way around. Besides, do I really need to eat?”

“You’re joking.” Rebecca frowned. “I think you need to eat eventually.”

The three sat in silence for a moment, not wanting to address the elephant in the room.

“We could ask Jhandir (@sakuuya) about it.” Tristan said eventually.

“Do you think he’d know?” Oscar raised an eyebrow. “He wasn’t a fan of me before, I doubt he’d like me now.”

“We could phrase it theoretically.” Rebecca suggested.

“I think he’d know why we’re asking.” Tristan frowned. “We could ask Heaton.”

“His situation is different from Oscar’s.” Rebecca reasoned. “It is just his arm.”

“He might have some insight.”

“He might not.”

“We can just worry about this later.” Oscar interrupted. “I would rather spend my time listening to what’s happened these two years instead of debating whether I can eat or not.”

Rebecca nodded. “I suppose that does make more sense…”

“What do you want to know?” Tristan asked.

“For starters, how did you two meet?” Oscar leaned back, crossing his arms.

“I found the note you left me after you…” Rebecca hesitated, then continued. “I reached out to Tristan and I was lucky that he contacted me back in the most ominous way possible.”

“I had to know that you weren’t going to bring anyone else.” Tristan reasoned.

“Like I would have.” Rebecca scoffed. “So I joined the Resistance with Tristan’s help, and started spying on my father to get information.”

Oscar nodded. “How’s the family?” He asked Rebecca.

Rebecca winced. “Not good.” She spoke, trying to phrase her words in the nicest way possible.

“Her father died, sister-in-law is the worst, and she’s now living in our base.” Tristan interjected, glancing at Rebecca.

“Well…I hate to say it, but the Baron had it coming for him, and I knew Octavia was the worst, from what you said about her.” Oscar frowned. “You’re living in a base?”

“My base, actually. It’s only until this cools over.” Rebecca rationalized.

“That’s not safe.” Oscar frowned, then realized something. “You two…share a base?”

“Yes, we do.” Tristan nodded.

“We do.” Rebecca agreed.

Oscar glanced between the two of them. “Are you two dating?”

Tristan and Rebecca glanced at each other, not exactly sure what to say. “I suppose we are.” Rebecca said eventually, glancing nervously back at Oscar.

“You suppose?”

“We are.” Tristan confirmed. “I hope that this isn’t weird, or-”

“It’s not.” Oscar shook his head. “It makes a lot of stuff make more sense, actually.”

“Like what?”

“When you called her ‘Becca,’ for instance.” Oscar shrugged.

“It still sounds weird.” Rebecca shook her head.

“But you don’t object to it?” Tristan asked hopefully.

Rebecca sighed. “No, I do not.” She said, stifling a yawn.

Tristan looked concerned, then steeled his resolve. “Stay right here, I’m going to set up a place for you to sleep.”

“Tristan…”

“Becca…” Tristan matched Rebecca’s tone, standing and heading upstairs. Rebecca couldn’t help but smile as she watched him go.

“So you really like him?” Oscar asked quietly.

Rebecca turned, and nodded. “I do.”

Oscar smiled. “I always had a feeling that you two would get along great. I just wish I was the one to introduce you two.”

“In a way, you did. If it wasn’t for you, I think everything would be different now.” Rebecca admitted.

“There is no point dwelling on the past and wondering what could have been.” Oscar shook his head. “We just have to look forward, and prepare for the battles we have ahead.”

Rebecca smiled softly. “Wise words.”

“Indeed.” Oscar smiled briefly, then his tone turned serious . “And now, they’re more important than ever.”

“Things are only going to get worse.” Rebecca sighed. “I don’t want to lose either of you in the battles ahead.”

“You won’t, I promise. We’ll make it back alive.”

 


	6. Andrew O'Rourke / @delusionsbybonnie

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was written by Polyvore user @delusionsbybonnie, aka [DelusionsByBonnie](https://archiveofourown.org/users/DelusionsbyBonnie).

“What? She’s dead?”

“Yes. She was trying to kill the traitor Massey, but Miss Feurherz stopped her. Didn’t realize he was the mole, I guess.” Andrew splashed water on his face, scrubbing it briefly with a mostly-clean rag.

Liam swore softly and viciously. “She didn’t want to help me reach Lynch, but this… this will make it that much harder. He won’t want to listen to anyone involved in the rebellion now.”

“Chrissake, Liam, his daughter is dead! Have some compassion! Anyhow, I’ve got to go. Mrs Howard-Dutch wants to see me.”

Liam threw his hands up in disgust. “Fine! Do more work for the English than for your own country. I’ll do it by myself.”

“That’s not-- dammit, Liam, I don’t have time to argue with you. I have to go.”

 ***

Andrew was still stewing when he reached the Tau-Epsilon warehouse, but took a deep breath and took a moment to compose himself before knocking on the office door.

“Ah, Andrew, thank you for coming.” Mrs Howard-Dutch sat, ramrod-straight, behind a desk, but it was her companion who gave him a brief spike of anxiety. Percy Albright lounged in a chair, looking completely unsurprised to see Andrew. “Please shut the door and come sit.”

“Mr O’Rourke, such an unexpected pleasure,” Albright said, smiling his oblique smile.

“Mr Albright has offered his support to us. I understand that you are aware of his interest in Heaton? Yes, of course. Mr Albright has some insight in Heaton’s… past and wishes to help him, and of course we are happy to accept Mr Albright’s help. But now we come to the part of greatest interest to you, Andrew.”

She turned a piercing gaze onto Albright. “You know a great deal more about our organization than you let on, don’t you, Mr Albright? Or ought I say Archivist?”

Albright’s smile faded, and he straightened in his chair. “Mr O’Rourke. It seems I have underestimated you.”

“Not as stupid as I look, am I?”

“Andrew is a valuable member of our organization. Now, considering that you have decided to throw in your lot with us, I think it would be quite against your interests to continue blackmailing us.”

“Blackmailing is such a harsh term.”

“Spare me your platitudes, Mr Albright! You are with us or you are against us. We are standing on a knife’s edge, and there is no room for error.”

“Very well. You have my word. The Archivist is no more.”

“Very good, Mr Albright.” Mrs Howard-Dutch’s smile was icy. “I am very pleased to have your help. Andrew here will be keeping you company. If you have any questions or concerns, he will convey them to me or other appropriate leadership figures. Your presence here is not a secret.”

Albright probably made appropriate polite responses, but Andrew was dizzied by what had just happened, and grateful he hadn’t been on the receiving end. The woman was terrifying, and had nerves of brass. Who else would stand up and blackmail the king of London’s underworld right back to his face, and win?

“Andrew, would you please show Mr Albright out? And then do come back. I’ve a bottle of Scotch that I should appreciate an expert opinion on.” Behind Albright’s back, she winked.

Andrew grinned. “Yes’m.”


End file.
